


Burns

by amooniesong



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Burns, Depression, Drabble, Dream is mentioned, George has 0.02 seconds of dialogue, Hurt No Comfort, Loneliness, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27582250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amooniesong/pseuds/amooniesong
Summary: Sapnap wasn’t sure if he could pinpoint the moment everything started feeling bad again. If he could, he didn’t want to, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.He felt less valued, less wanted, less needed... The only thing he seemed to feel more of was alone.
Comments: 15
Kudos: 111





	Burns

**Author's Note:**

> tw for self harm (burning) - hopefully that's clear from the tags but back out now if that's something you aren't comfortable reading

Sapnap wasn’t sure if he could pinpoint the moment everything started feeling  _ bad  _ again. If he could, he didn’t want to, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.

He felt less valued, less wanted, less  _ needed...  _ The only thing he seemed to feel  _ more  _ of was alone. 

Logically, he knew that he should have messaged one of his friends. He knew that if Dream, or George, or  _ any  _ of his friends knew how he was feeling they would bend over backward to drive those feelings away and help him - but maybe that was part of the reason he didn’t talk to them. He didn’t want them to feel  _ forced  _ into helping him, he didn’t want them to see this weak part of him that he could hide when they only saw each other through the internet. Instead of letting his walls down and letting them see he just… Let things fall away slowly. 

When he streamed, he stopped using his facecam. No one needed to see his mess of a bedroom, nor the fact that he hadn’t shaved or washed his hair in… How many weeks was it now? They didn’t need to see the bags under his eyes getting slowly darker, or his skin getting paler. To the audience he was Sapnap, the comic relief of the group, the buffoon that brought an element of chaos to streams and to videos, and that was a part he could play when required but one that he wanted to play less and less. It took up too much energy, and he found himself needing more sleep after that. 

He didn’t  _ think  _ that George or Dream had picked anything up, but when George posted a short audio clip from their conversation before an MCC stream where Sapnap had said that he didn’t feel like playing, he realised that people might start to catch on sooner rather than later.

So he stopped streaming as much. When he did stream, he made sure to plan several days in advance. That meant he could sleep longer in the days before, he could consume enough sugar that he would be hyper and chaotic throughout, and he could crash off stream when it was all over.

He knew he shouldn’t have been spending his free time watching George streaming, but he hadn’t spoken to him or Dream in days and he missed his voice. He missed talking to his friends, but with a stream planned in two days time he couldn’t risk expending the extra energy of joining a call and talking to them - and given that he’d been quiet and distant for the last few days he imagined that if he  _ did  _ join, there’d be a number of questions that would be asked of him.

Answering them wasn’t an option.

“Sapnap’s here?” George asked, and Sapnap groaned quietly. He didn’t want attention drawn to him. “Hi Sapnap.” He let his forehead fall onto his desk, and he didn’t think twice about the dull throbbing that accompanied the heavy hit. “Guys, stop asking for him to join. Let him lurk if he wants to lurk, it’s his choice if he wants to join the call. You can join, if you want?”

It was posed as a question, but Sapnap barely heard it. His mind instead fixated on four key words:  _ stop asking for him. _

He knew he was taking the phrase out of context, but logic didn’t matter now. All he could think about was George telling his audience to stop asking for him… And  _ God  _ did it hurt to keep replaying those words over and over.

Rather than continue to sit with the stream open (he wasn’t listening anymore) Sapnap closed his Twitch and turned off his computer, eyes roaming over his desk for something to take his mind off the feelings of loneliness and abandonment… He just wished that they didn’t land on the lighter.

He swallowed, blocking out the rest of the world as he reached forward and let his fingers grasp the small piece of plastic, before his thumb came to the ignition and he clicked repetitively to watch the flame light and disappear over and over. It was hypnotic to watch, the light dancing before his eyes almost enough to make him smile.

Almost.

He didn’t know what drove him to shift his arm over the flame, but the moment he did he let out a gasp. It hurt like a  _ bitch,  _ and the slight red spot on his skin told him he’d burnt himself.

He should’ve gone to run water over the burn for a few minutes.

He brought the flame to his arm again and, this time, held it there a little longer.

Sapnap became used to the pain a little more quickly than he should have done. It woke him up, he felt alert, he felt  _ something  _ other than just  _ shit _ for once and it felt  _ good.  _ He bit down on his bottom lip, teasing it with his teeth to hold in the sounds of pain he wanted to release, and he tried to focus on that rather than the pain on his arm. 

He didn’t last more than a few minutes before the pain became too much - it didn’t fade like he’d expected it to after a while, it just became more intense, more unbearable, and he chuckled quietly.

Curse himself for wanting to feel  _ more. _

Rather than do the sensible thing and try to look after the burns, Sapnap just moved back to his bed. He tried not to look at his arm - not wanting to see how red his skin had become, or the small blisters that he was certain would have formed by now - he just wanted to sleep. He let himself glance briefly at his phone to check the time - as if it would give him some semblance of normality or routine. It was just past four in the afternoon, he’d barely been awake for three hours.

He had a notification from Dream.

Muting his phone, he turned it over and rolled away from it. He winced at the pain in his arm, but he didn’t care. 

He was so tired.

**Author's Note:**

> haha vent fics go brrr B)
> 
> comments & kudos make serotonin go brrr though <3


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